Before you say who you are,
tell us what you’ve noticed.
Something small.
Something slightly improper.
Something you wouldn’t say in polite company—but would murmur to a woman you trust.
A shift in culture.
A truth you’ve outgrown.
A contradiction you’ve learned to live with.
A thought you’ve been carrying quietly, like a secret folded into a glove.
You may speak in a sentence, a fragment, or a borrowed line.
You may offer observation without explanation.
You may let the mirror distort the truth—slightly.
Remember:
It’s no use going back to yesterday.
You were a different person then.
Step through. What do you see now?